


Scattered Feathers

by Aeriel of Isternes (Aeriel)



Category: Darkangel Trilogy - Meredith Ann Pierce
Genre: Drabble Collection, Gen, Multi
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-09-06
Updated: 2010-09-06
Packaged: 2017-10-11 13:27:01
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 8
Words: 4,224
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/112895
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Aeriel/pseuds/Aeriel%20of%20Isternes
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A collection of drabbles and poems, mostly centered around Aeriel and Irrylath. They vary from character vignettes to snippets during the series, alternate universe endings or post-series character studies.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Truce?

The bandit queen known as Sabr tossed a dagger into the air, and caught it. She repeated the motion several times, then sheathed her weapon.

A peal of feminine laughter sounded in her ears, and Sabr cringed.

If she turned, she knew she would find her cousin and his wife. But she didn't want to turn.

She forced herself to keep her eyes on Solstar-set. She knew well enough when she had lost- or she did now- but there was no reason to grind salt into the wound.

The bandit queen had in truth gained more than she had lost over the war. However, her natural arrogance had led her to believe that she could have any man she want, and this theory had been proven wrong. And it stung.

It seemed selfish of her to be so hung up on one man, and she was aware that a good deal of the camp saw her that way.

She had been so absorbed in her own thoughts that Sabr didn't notice the other girl walking towards her.

"Sabr...?" Aeriel began uncertainly.

"Whatever you have to say, I do not wish to hear it." The bandit queen snapped, turning her head away.

"I have nothing against you." The other girl said quietly. "We are cousins through marriage, and I would like it if we could come to some sort of an understanding."

A harsh laugh escaped Sabr's throat. "Is it even possible for a sorceress to have family? Aside from those she has stolen?"

Aeriel stiffened considerably. "I am not a sorceress. I simply have very strange luck. And I never stole anyone- it is _you_ who attempted to steal Irrylath from _me!_"

"HE SHOULD NOT HAVE BEEN YOURS IN THE FIRST PLACE!" Sabr roared. All of a sudden, she realized with shame that she was acting like a spoiled baby.

The bandit queen hung her head in shame. "I am sorry," she said stiffly. "This war has taken its toll upon me, and I have not been as honorable as I should have perhaps been."

Sabr felt a slight stinging of guilt as she thought over her actions towards another woman's husband, but didn't allow herself to feel much more.

"You are forgiven," Aeriel said softly. "Let us speak of this no more."


	2. Irrylath's Epilogue

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Alone I stand, alone at last

Alone I stand, alone at last

Wishing upon me your eyes would cast

Just one more look, just one more gaze

I'm caught inside a tangled maze

For love for hate, for all these things

So did I give up my wings

You helped me then, but now you're gone

Far, far away, where I can't go.

Damned I feel though I should feel joy

Watching these others pretend to be coy

They are not you

Nor will they be

Never will they set me free

I don't care

I don't want to be

Lost to you as you are lost to me

Aeriel

my Aeriel

only were you that

At the end of it all

when together we sat

and rejoiced in the rain

And now the pain

is mine to keep

I'll remember the way you sleep

Even then your head held so high

That one time we did lie

together

But never

again

You said I could have Sabr

whose company

was nothing

beside yours

You said we squandered our years

but you said it with tears

in your eyes

I know they were not your lies

There is someone in your head now

If not for them I should share your bed now

The agony of knowing

you are incapable of showing

that you are under their spell

This is true hell!

From this hell I will never be free

So let this world be done with me.


	3. A Far Cry From Heaven

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Spawned from curiosity about that time when Irrylath was searching for Aeriel during Gathering of Gargoyles, and certainty that the light maidens had some ulterior motive. I don't particularly like them.

The heat was sweltering. Sweat dripped down Eoduin's face, mingling with her silky black hair so that it stuck to her neck in a most unattractive way.

The maiden grimaced. Telling Aeriel that they were not in deep heaven was a gross understatement. They were stars yes, but there were all sorts of stars, and the orbs that she and her light-maiden sisters occupied seemed to maintain a heat akin to the flames of hell.

Sometimes Eoduin wondered if it was hell. Her star was not as hot as the others, save Marrea. Marrea's star was at least ten degrees cooler than hers.

_What sin are _we_, the victims of the darkangel being made to atone for?_ The syndic's daughter fumed. _Why should_ we_ be punished?_

The stars had not always been this unpleasant. When the light-maidens first ascended to the skies, it had been warm, but not unpleasantly so. However, as they watched Aeriel cure the darkangel, their anger grew, and so did the heat until it was unbearable.

The temperature did not change with their emotions, however. Even when the maidens were calm, it was torturously hot in their spheres, save for Eoduin's which was merely the heat of a miserable summer day, and Marrea's, which occasionally received a breeze.

It angered Eoduin more that instead of the peaceful afterlife she had been expecting, her and her companions were forced to suffer further trials.

In the back of her mind, a tiny thread of guilt registered as her eyes followed Aeriel's husband. At first, she had been able to convince herself that she was looking out for Aeriel's wellbeing by ensuring that Irrylath was a suitable partner for her.

Unfortunately, the maiden had developed a twisted fascination for the young man. The more she watched him, the less she understood him or his habits. At first, Eoduin had hated Irrylath with the same loathing she bore for the darkangel. It was a combination of the disgust for this creature the prince had been, and anger at him for the coldness with which he treated Aeriel whenever the maiden watched them.

However, the more she watched them, the more she realized that his stiffness was a cover for something else, and that he did indeed care very much for her old slave. Eoduin had come to regard Irrylath with an interest bordering on obsession.

And now, as she watched him, convinently alone on his quest for his wife, she determined to confront him through the same means as she and her sisters came to Aeriel.

It would be difficult to do on her own, but Eoduin was the youngest of them and the strongest, for her soul had suffered for the shortest period of time.

With a great amount of force, she willed herself down to the planet's surface to appear in the forest beside Irrylath.

"Hail, prince of Isternes and Avaric!" she called.

Irrylath tensed as he saw her. "Who are you?" he snapped.

Eoduin smiled. "I am your twelfth-and-one bride."

He drew his blade. "What do you want? Do you know where Aeriel is?"

"She searches for those the icari would claim," Eoduin returned cryptically. "But you need not search for her, my prince. At the end of the search we were promised she would come to us."

Irrylath lowered his sword. "So this is to be your revenge on me?" he whispered harshly. "You and your sisters intend to spirit my wife away to the skies and leave me alone in this world?"

"You need not be alone, Prince Irrylath," she said. "There is your mother and your brothers. And, having my Aeriel by my side, I shall look out for you as well. To please her," Eoduin added hastily.

"She is not _your_ Aeriel!" Irrylath spat, raising the edge adamantine again. "Not yours, nor any of your cursed sisters' belongings! She belongs to the people and causes she chooses to devote herself to, to what kin she may have in this world." He paused. "And...to me."


	4. Just Aeriel

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Set during 'Pearl of the Soul of the World'.

Aeriel clutched her side and doubled over, panting heavily. It was difficult enough to run for such a long distance, but the desert's sands increased the labor to such an extent that she felt as if she was dying.

"If only I had some water," she thought miserably, plodding forward at a slow but steady pace.

It had all been Sabr's fault. The bandit queen had suggested that the forces race around a circular track that some of her people prepared. This would lighten their spirits while also serving as exercise.

Aeriel had planned to sit out, but a comment from the other woman had goaded her into joining the race, despite the fact that she was hardly used to running for such a long distance without stopping for breaks.

"I'm sure our resident sorceress will be pleased to sit back at the camp and watch while the real fighters prepare for battle."

Anger surged inside her. How dare the bandit queen treat her that way! She was no better than the rest of them, and had never thought so!

And, somehow or other, she had found herself on the track with the others. "Surely," she thought, "since I have done so much traveling, running around this track shouldn't be too difficult."

However, she had not counted on the fact that they were not allowed breaks, nor water. Were she traveling alone, Aeriel would have stopped to rest until the next day instead of walking the entire circle.

The trouble was, she couldn't quit. Turning around and walking back to the camp would likely prove just as exhausting as continuing on. Worse yet, she knew she was going to be the last one back to the camp. And she knew that Sabr was not going to pass up a chance to point out to her husband how worthless she was in that regard.

_Irrylath..._ Aeriel's heart clenched at the thought of him. He seemed to pay her less and less attention since they had made camp- no, less and less attention since Sabr had joined their party.

It was peculiar. Aeriel had never been much of an attention-seeker. Indeed, she hated it when she was graced with grand titles and elaborate greetings. Still, something in the bandit queen brought out an uglier side of her that she had never encountered before. When Sabr was around, Aeriel tended to grit her teeth and focus her energy on something (or someone) else.

The prince's disinterest hurt all the more for how much closer he had seemed after saving her in Westernesse. Not only had he traveled all that long road for want of her, but he had confided in her, at least a little.

Ironic indeed that he should have encountered Sabr first while searching for Aeriel.

She fell to her knees, her hands sinking in the sand. Aeriel closed her eyes tightly, trying to keep from crying.

_I cannot make it!_ she wanted to cry. _Someone save me, I cannot walk all this way, and will be ridiculed if I do!_

"Aeriel?" A rough, heartbreakingly familiar voice asked.

Aeriel jerked upright. "Irrylath?" she replied, startled. "I thought for certain that you would be far ahead."

"I stopped to catch my breath," he said shortly. "I do not think it wise to use up all of my energy in one sprint."

Her heart lifted a little. So she was not the only one who preferred to rest!

"I'm not much good at this sort of thing," Aeriel admitted. "I would have stayed behind at the camp, but-" she paused for a moment. Should she say that Sabr had insulted her?

"-it was a matter of pride," she finished weakly.

He looked surprised. "You tire. You are exhausted, Aeriel."

"I suppose I am." Aeriel laughed half-heartedly. "It will please Sabr to know that she has beaten me once again."

Irrylath seemed baffled. "Whatever do you mean, 'again'? We have not had these contests before, and I shall see to it that we do not have them again after this. What else have you been competing over?"

_Your heart!_ Aeriel wanted to shout. _Are you blind, that you cannot see the way she holds your arm tighter when I am near, and gives me those triumphant smirks. She knows that she is winning you! How can I believe you mine when she haunts your steps so, and you allow it?_

Instead, she replied, "I wanted to walk with your company when we left Sabr's home, but she urged the horses on too fast, and since I have none, I could not catch up. Erin walked by my side."

"I will get you a horse," Irrylath decided. "And one for Erin as well, though I doubt she will thank me. She seems to have the same irrational hate for me that Sabr has for you."

Aeriel shook her head quickly, embarrassed. "Oh, please do not! I am perfectly fine on foot. Sabr would only think I was putting on airs."

He rolled his eyes, giving her a hand to help her stand up. "You cannot spend your life worrying about what Sabr thinks. She won't be able to beleaguer you about this episode, at least. I will walk with you, and it matters not if we are the last in the camp to arrive, for my word holds more authority than hers."

She smiled, her heart soaring. Even if it was in the slightest way, Irrylath was helping her, and he was protecting her from Sabr. That alone made her forgive him everything.

"I think I would like a horse."


	5. Bandolyn Memories

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ((A/N: Set during Gathering of Gargoyles, when she was staying in Pirs. I cannot spell 'suzurain'.

Aeriel aimlessly ran a finger over the strings of the bandolyn, lost in thought. Of what, she was less than certain. Often enough she would just take time to think and let her thoughts fly where they would.

Sometimes they followed a coherent pattern, and sometimes they whirled in all directions. Sometimes, like now, they stood as still as the wine in her abandoned glass.

It seemed a long time since she had had the time to think to herself. She had been occupied with Erin, and now the suzurain was almost constantly by her side, persistently trying to catch her attention with one thing or another.

Aeriel unconsciously pushed him away, every time. Although she could never put her finger on what it was, specifically, some gut feeling told her that it was wrong to spend any time with him.

The image of a young man with dun-colored skin and ebony-black hair swam to the surface of her mind.

Aeriel's fingers began to pluck the strings almost of their own accord, shaping a tune she had known for years without really knowing. It was a short unfinished piece that she had heard in the syndic's house, while she was still a slave.

She had never heard the name of it, but she played it often to Eoduin as soon as she figured out how to. At least, she played part of it again and again. There was no ending, since she had been dragged out of earshot by one of the bossier servants before she could hear the ending.

Her former mistress had praised it, calling it a curious tune. It was music that Aeriel could always turn to, no matter her feeling. The song had a melancholy to it, but a strange joy nevertheless, as if to say 'Things will get better'.

It cheered her slightly. Even if she felt she was forgetting, some things would always be there. She couldn't help but feel that she would not forget forever. Her memory would return, and everything would be all right again.

As she put down the instrument, the suzurain stood in the doorway, looking at her.

"Why did you stop? You play well," he said.

"I do not play for you," she found herself answering even as she found it to be true. She played for someone who never gave her praise, someone who was not there.

Her fingers wistfully returned to the strings, falling into a pattern that she could not name, playing out her sorrow at not being able to remember someone.

_Irrylath_, Aeriel realized, and stopped again.

"I am wed," she said, and quit the room.


	6. Aquaphobia

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Pre-trilogy

"It's so pretty here, Eoduin!" Aeriel said wonderingly. She had last been in the foothills in early winter, and it still amazed her how different the familiar place looked in the spring.

Her mistress laughed. "Every year you say that! Do you have such a short memory, that you cannot remember what the foothills look like from one year to the next?"

The slave blushed heavily. She knew that Eoduin did not meant to hurt her feelings, but she could not help but feel maligned when her mistress teased her about her faults.

How was she to explain that every year the foothills exceeded her expectations, and that was why she always said the same thing?

Eoduin shrieked with joy. "Look, look, Aeriel! I've caught one!"

The yellow-haired girl looked timidly over her shoulder. Sure enough, a shining silver minnow leaped up and down in Eoduin's cupped hands.

Aeriel beamed on her friend's behalf. "That's wonderful!"

"Now you try, Aeriel!" Eoduin pressured, pulling her down by the pool. "Put your hands out in the water like this- no, not like that, like _this_ Aeriel, see? Good. Now wait for the minnows to come- sooner or later they'll just jump into your hand!"

They waited for a long time, but nothing jumped into Aeriel's cupped hands.

The dark haired girl sighed and tucked a strand of her shining hair behind her ear. "Well, I suppose you aren't going to catch any. They're probably scared of you."

Aeriel glared at the water, but didn't say anything. "I'm going to wait some more."

"You aren't going to catch any."

"I'll wait until I do!"

Eoduin rolled her eyes in a long-suffering manner. "All right then, but don't blame me if you don't catch anything."

She sauntered away to explore the caves where Aeriel was afraid to go alone. The fear clearly did not extend to Eoduin.

There _were_ minnows, Aeriel could see. They were swimming all over the dark pool, but were clearly avoiding her hands for some unknowable reason.

She scowled.

Then she saw it- a lone little silver fish, swimming just the barest inch away from her hands.

If I lean just a little bit closer, Aeriel realized, the fish will just swim into my hands, like the other one did for Eoduin.

Eager to catch the fish, she did lean a little bit closer, inching her hands forward, but still the little silver tail flicked ever so close, and not in her hands.

Aeriel leaned just a little bit closer than that- and then her knees buckled, and she toppled forward into the dark water, limbs flying in all directions.

She opened her mouth to scream for Eoduin, but discovered it was full of water.

Instantly she realized that it had been a bad idea to lean forward, as it seemed that she was heading slowly but steadily towards the bottom of the pool.

Aeriel flailed desperately in the water as the little silver minnows swirled around her. There were indeed hundreds of them, but they mocked her now- she could put out her hands and catch them, but she was sinking steadily.

She was getting more and more frantic every minute. It was so dark in the water, and her arms were getting heavier as she tried to paddle her way to the top.

Aeriel was close, so close- but she couldn't seem to break the surface, or see anything above it except the great shining light of Solstar by contrast to the blackness of the water.

And suddenly she felt a jerk on her hair, pulling her up. She opened her mouth to shriek at the pain, but her mouth only filled with more water.

And there was air, air, sweet tasting wonderful air, and Eoduin was pounding on her back to get the water out of her lungs.

Aeriel coughed, and water spewed out of her mouth. She shuddered at the sensation, wrapping her cold arms around her sopping wet form, filled with horror for the dark pool, and gratitude for her mistress.

Eoduin whacked her on the back again, and the water came pouring out again. She needed no assistance from her mistress after that. Aeriel fell forward, her hands holding her up from the bank, and coughed and coughed until the water was all gone.

The last time, one little silver fish came out with all the water.

"You see," Aeriel said weakly, gesturing to the fish. "I did catch one."


	7. Peace of a Moment

Aeriel stood barefoot in the klanu, arms outstretched to keep her balance, as the wide boat was far out from the shore- not so far that she couldn't see it, but far out enough that turning over would not be a pleasant experience.

Grateful as she was for the restoration of water to the world, Aeriel had no desire for another near-drowning experience.

Still, she had to admit, it was beautiful to behold the deep blue waters lapping against sandy shores. When she lingered by the docks of Isternes, the sea spray made her clothes damp instead of dusty.

But Elver was something else altogether.

As she had never been there in the times before the Witch's defeat, Aeriel was completely unprepared for the radiance of Elver. Forests bordered on rivers filled with completely new kinds of fish, pale shades of pink and yellow.

Aeriel tilted her head back, arms still spread wide, a smile on her face as she silently rejoiced in a peace never before known to her.

"Aeriel! Your skin will be as black as Erin's if you stand out there any longer!"

Her smile only widened as she let her arms fall to her sides. "Coming, husband!" she called joyfully, bending down to paddle her way back.

She had barely pulled up to the shore before Irrylath dragged her out of the klanu, greeting her with an eager kiss. By the time they broke apart, Aeriel was laughing.

"One would think I had been away half the daymonth!" she protested, pushing him away playfully.

"That long and I would have swum out to fetch you," her husband chided. "Wasn't there a time when you feared to drown in so much water?"

"I knew you were here," she said simply.


	8. Homeward Bound

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ((A/N: Post-series, canonverse. I've been toying with some characterizations for a post-series fic, and this is one of the results. A Sabr-centric piece, with some examination of other characters as well, though through the Sabr lens. It was kind of fun, and threw itself together much faster than the last one. ))

A lone woman stood on the prow of a ship, her sharp blue eyes scanning the horizon across the Mare.

This was Sabr, advisor to the King of Avaric, as well as heir apparent.

She was often sent on diplomatic voyages to distant lands—voyages that the King himself would undertake, were he not needed at Tour-of-Kings. At least, that was the message she was always told to convey.

The wind ripped through her dark hair, spray from the sea a far more enjoyable sensation than the grit of salt that would have brushed her face two years ago. Her hands, covered with calluses from her days as the bandit queen, clenched at the railing. Sabr knew at this point that Irrylath did not want her near him, and that was why he sent her on these missions. Why exactly he needed her to be as far away as Esternesse for this trip, on the other hand, escaped her.

The monarchs that she visited on a regular basis had come to the resigned conclusion that if they wanted to see the King of Avaric, they'd have to do it themselves. After all, it had been five years since Irrylath had left Avaric.

"I'm worried about him, Sabr," Syllva had said earlier. "From what Hadin and Lern write me of their visits, Irrylath is much changed from his campaign against the Witch."

"That he is," Sabr had replied, somewhat uneasily. "My cousin rules all of Avaric now. Responsibility hardens a person."

The regent queen of Isternes had frowned. "He should take some consideration for his own needs. Or if not, then someone must take care of him."

The words _Aeriel would have_ seemed to hang in the air, unspoken, between them.

"He will not accept my care," Sabr said angrily. "He takes my advice but seldom, and never regarding his wellbeing. I have done all I can to make him love me, but I refuse to pick up the pieces _that girl_ left behind!"

Just thinking of it made the woman's temper boil over again. She didn't know why Irrylath would not cleave to her. If anything, he seemed better suited to Sabr than before—he was cold, calm and calculating. He wasn't deadly suspicious of anyone but her—or it felt that way.

Well, there were others who appreciated her. The suzerain of Pirs, for instance. A smile flickered across Sabr's face at the thought of Roshka. He was not really her kind of man, but he was ever so generous.

It was a pity her cousin couldn't see her with Roshka. Oh, how he would burn!

After all, jealously was a tack Sabr had yet to try. She rubbed her thumb against her forefinger, contemplating it. Of course, it would have to be done quite carefully. Still, perhaps if he saw another man pay her court, it would rouse some feelings of an interesting nature.

A gleeful smile spread over the former bandit queen's face at the idea. Oh yes. She would have to arrange a diplomatic meeting of some sort.


End file.
